Knowing
by Soleya
Summary: Episode tag for Meridian - why do we always wait?


A/N: I just watched _Meridian_, and the end about killed me. Here's what should have been said.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, I'd have done it the first time around.

Knowing

"You okay?"

Jack looked up in surprise from his tray of completely untouched food to find Jacob standing across the table. He pulled out a chair and put down his cake as the younger man mutely shook his head.

"You wanna talk about it?"

He sighed. "I keep trying to convince myself that 'big glowy thing' means… not dead," he said softly. "I should've been there."

"I'm not sure you could've stopped him, even if you were. Any one of you would have done the same."

Jack just gave a small nod.

"And I'll miss him, Jack, but… ascension or not, I'm glad it wasn't Sam. Or you." It pained him to admit it, but Selmak wasn't sure his daughter would have survived that loss.

"Yeah, Carter," Jack sighed. "How is she?"

"I don't know. She won't let me anywhere near her," Jacob confessed. "She and I don't do so well with death, you know."

"She shouldn't really be alone."

"Yeah. And I didn't really come here for the cake." The older man pulled Jack's key ring out of his pocket and slid them silently across the table. Jack stared at them, uncertain if the cross Jacob was asking him to take up was really one he could bear, then pushed away his tray and picked them up.

~/~

Jack didn't really expect Sam to answer her door, so he just let himself in. The house was dark, silent but for the soft sniffles coming from the living room.

She sat in her oversized arm chair, surrounded in a nest of pillows, and it occurred to him for the first time in a long time how tiny and fragile she was. She huddled against the largest of the pillows, her hand over her face as her breath shook with grief.

"Carter."

He wasn't sure she heard him. He was about to speak again when she choked softly, "Go away, sir."

"I just wanted to make sure you're…" Well, that sounded stupid. Of course she wasn't okay. "You shouldn't be alone."

The last word elicited a ragged sob, and he winced. "Carter…"

"Please, sir. Just go away." She still wouldn't look at him.

"Can't I just sit with you awhile?" The brave soldier face hadn't broken all day, and he would never admit that he needed to hold her as much as he thought she needed to be held. To feel warm and safe and… not so alone.

He slowly approached her and touched her hair, but she recoiled and pressed her face into the pillow. "Don't touch me," she ordered, her voice muffled.

Stunned and a little hurt, he stepped back. "Carter?"

For the first time, she looked at him, her face red and puffy from crying. But her eyes held a glint of anger he hadn't seen before. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why did you stop him?" She was on her feet, in his face, and he took another step back. "He could have _saved_ him!"

She meant Jacob, he realized. "He's not gone," he said softly.

"Yeah, well, he's not here!" she cried. "What if Dad could have brought him back? He could be here right now, and you… How could you do that? He was your friend!"

The strength of her anger surprised him, and he forced himself to hold his ground. "That's not what he wanted."

"Oh, how the hell do you know what he wanted? And what about what _I _want?" She was yelling at the top of her lungs, only inches from him. "I want my best friend back, you son of a bitch!"

She shoved him then, hard, and he didn't know what to do except grab her wrists and pull her close to him, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "Carter, stop," he whispered, and her anger dissolved into grief again, sobs tearing through her thin frame. When her knees gave out, he slowly lowered them both to the floor and held her close in his lap, his face buried in her hair. "I miss him, too," he whispered, trying hard to keep himself in check.

He didn't know how long he held her – hours, maybe – before the sobs calmed a bit. She clung to him tightly, as though he were the only thing keeping her afloat. It scared him to think that that might be true.

Finally, her head lifted a little, and she slowly met his concerned eyes with her tear-filled ones. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly.

"It's okay," he soothed.

She stared at him for a long moment, pulling herself together, and he thought she might pull away. Instead, she wrapped a hand behind his neck and drew him closer, closer, finally pressing her lips tenderly to his.

He knew he should stop her, tell her no, that she was in no condition to make those kinds of decisions, but he just didn't have the willpower. He kissed her back softly, tenderly, absorbing the heat of her mouth and the warmth of her arms for far longer than he should have before he pulled back ever so slightly.

"Carter," he whispered, "we're both a little too raw for that right now, huh?"

He was a little afraid she might try to hurt him again, but a tiny smile tugged at her face. "I know," she murmured back. "It's just that…"

"That what?"

"I told Daniel that I didn't know why we wait. Why… we never say anything until it's too late. And I – I needed you to know."

His hands came up to gently cup her face, and he smiled. "I do know, Carter. And I hope you do, too."

"I do," she sniffed.

"Okay. Then c'mere." He held out his arms again, and she sank into them, letting him pull into a tight embrace.

Both knew nothing would change. It couldn't. And they owed it to Daniel to carry on his work.

But somehow, it hurt a little less – it was a little easier – knowing.


End file.
